Path to Destruction
by dawneh
Summary: Set after the parting of John Paul and Craig we see where their lives are taking them... a dark and pain filled journey which finds Craig alone and lost in Dublin...
1. Chapter 1

Dublin was a beautiful city and Ireland was a beautiful country. Craig knew this to be a fact. He'd read the brochures, he'd seen it on TV and he'd heard all about the wonders that this new place would have to offer him as he planned to leave everything he knew behind and move there.

Dublin was a rich and vibrant city filled with stunning architecture and friendly locals.

Dublin was a place any young man would be happy to live in.

Dublin was beautiful. Craig told himself this fact every day and yet, somehow, in the six weeks since arriving he had yet to see any evidence of it. It had to be said that he didn't look very hard, but everything that he did see and everywhere he went felt cold and empty and ugly. He had never felt so completely alone in his life and whatever he did to try and fill the gaping chasm in his chest just left him feeling emptier than before.

Five days after arriving in Dublin Craig needed a drink. But not just any drink. He was in search of a "drinking till you fall down and forget who you are" type of drink and that is how he first discovered the bar.

Craig had set out from the flat he was renting at a little after eight on his quest. He had passed several pubs and clubs but as he paused to look inside he found fault with each one. This one was too bright; this one too dark, another sounded much too cheerful and yet another played the kind of music that reminded him of… of something he was trying to forget.

He had almost given up finding the sort of place he was looking for when he wandered down a back street. At first he didn't even realise it was a bar. One window was boarded with wood and a large X was painted on it, Craig later discovered that this was in fact the bars name.

The paintwork was ill kept and peeling and the place had the feel of somewhere so run down that no one could be bothered trying to save it. The noise leaking from the door was a blend of voices and soft mismatched music, none of which sounded too cheerful and that suited Craig perfectly. As he pushed open the door Craig was greeted with the smell of stale beer but thankfully the volume of the patrons hardly seemed to rise at all.

Craig had ordered his first drink and settled onto a bar stool before he took a moment to look around his surroundings. The interior of the bar was as rundown as it's exterior and it had the feel of a place that rarely attracted any newcomers, so much so that Craig felt many eyes looking him over.

It was then that Craig noticed another salient fact about the bar. Its clientele were near exclusively male and many of them were quite obviously gay. As his eyes flicked around the room he observed many couples embracing, kissing and, in several cases, taking things as far as they could get away with in public before dragging each other off to carry on behind closed doors.

Craig almost laughed, and he would have done so, if he could remember how to laugh.

Part of him felt envy for these men. They had no reservations about who they were or how they felt. Their physical attraction for each other was plain to see and they didn't shy away from it for a second.

Why couldn't Craig be like that? If he could have been then he wouldn't be sat in such a place on his own. He wouldn't have to be anywhere alone.

Craig told himself he should leave. Every atom of his being told him to run now while he still could.

Craig Dean ordered a second drink.

By his fourth drink Craig was starting to feel the comfortable buzz of alcohol running through his system.

When the dark haired man offered to buy him another Craig saw no reason to refuse.

When the dark haired man stayed to talk to him Craig saw no reason not to reply.

And when the dark haired man leaned into his ear and told Craig how much he wanted to take him into the gents and fuck him Craig saw no reason not to follow him.

That was almost six weeks ago. Since then Craig had become a regular at X and, as he looked around the room on yet another Friday night, he realised that he could no longer remember how many other of the bars customers he had since followed into the gents in search of a fulfilment that he never found. And he wondered how many more sexual conquests it would take before he lost himself completely and became one of the glazed faces he saw around him. Desperate for any kind of physical attention, desperate to feel wanted or desperate to feel anything, even if it was pain.

Craig emptied his bottle and prepared to leave. As he placed the bottle down on the bar a new face caught his eye from the other side of the room.

He didn't know if it was the blond hair that drew him, or if it was the pale blue eyes, it might even have been the bemused expression on the young mans face as he tried to attract the bartender's attention. Whatever it was Craig was soon taking the stool by the young man's side and offering a friendly smile.

"You'll never get a drink like that," Craig said kindly as he raised his hand to order two drinks, getting the kind of service only a regular ever received.

"You don't have to…"

"I know," Craig handed the bottle to the blonde man, "But you look like you need it."

Craig observed his new companion as he took a slow drink. The man looked so young but Craig realised he was probably only a year or two younger than himself, almost the same age as… as someone he was trying to forget. What made the man look younger was the uncomfortable way he held himself, shuffling his feet self consciously as he looked around the room.

"You're new here," Craig said looking at the man's nervous expression.

"Is it that obvious?"

"A little… but then I know most of the regulars… so what brings you to a place like this?"

The young man's eyes flickered over to the couples making out behind him and his cheeks flushed as he lowered his gaze.

Craig nodded his understanding. "You're either trying to work out how to come out… or if you're really ready to…"

"You're good at this," the man replied, "It's just I've never… I'm not really sure if…" He shrugged and drank deeply from his bottle.

"Not sure if the whole gay thing is for you eh?"

"Something like that…"

"But you fancy blokes?"

"I think so… I mean I've never…"

Craig smiled. "I can help you… if you want."

"How?"

Craig moved in a little closer. "OK take a look around the room, it's fine, you can stare, no one here is gonna mind… now tell me… who here d'you find attractive?"

The young man flushed again. "Well you're not bad," he admitted shyly.

Craig smiled, after all who didn't like to get a compliment?

"Right then, me," Craig continued, "So close your eyes for a second and just imagine how it would feel if I kissed you… the touch of my mouth hard against your lips, my tongue pushing between them…"

"I think… I think I would quite like that."

"Good, good answer." Craig leaned in closer until his mouth was close to the mans ear, his breath hot against it. "Now imagine my mouth wrapped around your cock, my tongue running over it as I suck it in deeper…" The young man whimpered softly at the image in his mind and the heat of Craig's body pressing close against him. "Final test," Craig breathed, "Imagine how it would feel to have my cock inside you, fucking you hard until you come…"

The young man's eyes sprang open and the flush on his cheeks deepened.

Craig rested his hand on the man's thigh and moved it slowly upwards. The young man's arousal was apparent as Craig's hand rose towards his crotch and Craig let his fingers drift lightly over the erection straining behind his trousers.

"Well in theory this is obviously something you want," Craig said moving back and stepping down from his stool, "But what about in practice?"

"How do you mean?"

"You wanna know… then I'll show you… all you have to do is follow me."

Craig headed towards the gents without looking back. He didn't need to, he knew he was being followed; he had been here too many times before not to know when he had made another conquest.

As soon as the door to the cubicle was closed behind them Craig pushed his new friend against it, his mouth pressing hard against the uncertain lips that returned his kiss. The young man was obviously inexperience but he held onto Craig with enthusiasm as Craig's tongue slipped into his mouth and searched it with desire.

As they kissed Craig's hand gripped onto the man's crotch and massaged it through his trousers until the young man was breathing heavily with the intensity of the ache in his groin.

Craig expertly opened the young man's trousers with one hand and freed the firm pulsing cock that was nestled inside.

Craig broke away from the kiss and looked for a second into the pale blue eyes that reminded him so much of… of someone he was working hard to forget. He smiled as he brush his hand against the soft cheek of this innocent young man before sinking to his knees before him.

The young man gasped at the feel of Craig's lips opening to take the tip of his cock between them. Craig's tongue lapped lightly at the very tip, probing into its slit and making the man shudder with excitement.

Craig was almost sure that this was one of the young man's first sexual encounters, if not the very first, and as such he was certain of one thing. He knew that the young man would not be able to hold out for long under the attentions of his experienced mouth and, within minutes, as he took the man's cock deeper into his mouth and sucked hard against its length, the young man cried out gripping onto Craig's shoulders and, bucking his hips, he came deep into Craig's throat, spilling his load into the exquisite hot mouth.

"That was amazing…" the young man gasped as Craig rose to his feet.

"Now it's my turn," Craig said with a dark gleam in his eyes, "Turn around…"

The young man seemed nervous and uncertain as he turned away from Craig and placed his palms against the cold of the fake wooden door.

"I'm not sure…"

"Relax," Craig whispered into his ear as he eased the man's trousers down over his hips, "Trust me… you'll enjoy it… you just have to relax."

Craig pulled a small bottle of lube from his jacket pocket, feeling a moment's shame that he carried such an item every day, and coated his fingers liberally with it. Craig ran his hand between the younger man's buttocks, spreading the oily liquid liberally as he stroked in small circles around the tight puckered opening that was his target.

Craig felt the man tense as he pressed his first fingertip against the hole and leaned into his neck, kissing it lightly and breathing into his ear. "This will feel so good," Craig promised, "But only if you relax."

He felt the man's body begin to loosen and Craig took the opportunity to push his finger deeper inside to the gasps of surprised pleasure. "I told you… and trust me… it gets better."

Craig worked at the tightness of the man's opening for a few minutes, feeling it relax under his touch as a second and then third finger was allowed access and the man's fingers began to claw in desperation at the door.

Deciding that his companion was ready for more, and desperate to satisfy his own desires, Craig slipped a condom over his cock before directing its head at the well-oiled opening before him.

He pushed slowly and gently at first, giving the man's body time to accept him, gauging his speed by the sounds coming from the young man's throat. A whimper of pain and Craig would stop, giving the man a second to adjust; a moan of pleasure and Craig would push himself in deeper until his cock was buried deep inside the hot flesh of yet another stranger.

Craig gripped onto the man's hips as he began his slow steady thrusts into him. Pulling himself out almost completely before easing himself back into the welcome gripping heat.

At times like this Craig could forget himself. He could forget the loneliness that would wake him in tears in the middle of the night, he could forget the times he would pace his room unable to sleep and he could forget the person… the person he was trying to forget. At times like these all that mattered was his own physical needs and how good it felt to be fucking another hot willing body.

Craig's gentle attentions to the young man's body were soon forgotten as his own lust took over and before long his thrusts were hard and aggressive, slamming forcefully into the delicate flesh as he drove himself towards satisfaction.

"Fuck yes," Craig mumbled into the young man's neck as his climax exploded from his body, his hips thrusting his cock deeper into the tightness that was giving him pleasure as wave after wave of lust poured from him until he had nothing more to give.

Craig stepped back and, dropping the used condom into the toilet, he adjusted his trousers, guided the young man out of the way and left the toilet cubicle.

Fixing his own clothing the young man followed Craig back out into the bar.

"That was unbelievable," he said breathlessly, his eyes sparkling with life.

The sight of the young man's happy smile and bright eyes made Craig feel sick.

"I don't even know your name… when will I see you again?" The man's bubbly voice grated on Craig's nerves.

"Let me offer you some advice," Craig said taking the young man's shoulders, "Get out of this place and don't come back…"

"But…"

"Get as far as you can away from here… go and find yourself a decent bloke who's gonna treat you right… he's not here… and he's not me."

Craig dropped his hands from the young man's shoulders and headed towards the bar where he ordered another drink without once looking back.

Craig downed two bottle of lager before the bitter taste began to leave his mouth. He hadn't lifted his eyes from the damp surface of the bar as he drank. He couldn't stand the thought of catching those blue eyes looking at him, pleading with him. He tried to reason that he had taught the young man an important lesson but the truth was he had wanted him and so he had taken what he wanted.

This bar wasn't the place for fine feelings or emotions. The people here thrived on lust and desire. Sex was something to take when you wanted it from whoever offered it and then walk away. Craig realised that the more time he spent inside those walls the more he thought like that and yet he was unable to stay away.

Finally raising his eyes from the bar Craig was relived to see that his recent partner had taken his advice and left. As always Craig felt the familiar hollow echo in his chest that no sexual encounter had been able to fill, at least not since that person… that beautiful person who wouldn't be forgotten.

Craig felt more unfulfilled than usual. He wanted more, he needed more, he craved something that he couldn't even find a name for and, as he scoured the bars patrons, he spotted the person who he thought could offer it.

The tall dark man was as much of a regular in X as Craig. Although they had never spoken Craig knew the man by reputation. To his face people knew him as Pete. Behind his back he was more often referred to as "Pete the psycho." He was a tall and foreboding figure of a man whose dark eyes looked almost black and his hair, long and dark, was worn tied back in an aggressive ponytail.

Craig knew he was probably making a huge mistake by approaching Pete but that knowledge didn't stop him; it didn't even slow him down.

"Want a drink?" Craig asked the intense looking man.

"What?"

"I said d'you want a drink…"

"Why?" The question surprised Craig and it took him a moment to answer.

"I… err… I just thought you might like one."

"Do you really want to buy me a drink?" Pete stared at Craig with a wry amusement. He'd seen the younger man around the place for weeks now but he had always kept his distance until now.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to…"

"What I mean," Pete said pressing his mouth close to Craig's ear, "Is do you want to buy me a drink or do you just fancy a fuck?"

Pete laughed at Craig's wide-eyed reaction.

"Coz if you only want to buy me a drink," Pete continued, "Then fine I'll have your drink… but if you want a fuck then let's not waste time on drinks…"

Craig swallowed hard. He had the sudden feeling of a rabbit caught in headlights and he started to realise that he was out of his depth with this man. He had been given the chance to back out, he could simply purchase a drink for Pete and walk away, and he somehow knew he wouldn't get a second opportunity to do that.

"Well?" Pete was smiling darkly as he waited for his answer.

"I don't want to buy you a drink," Craig said quietly.

"That's what I thought… come on."

"Where to?"

"Come on…"

Craig followed Pete out of the bars front door and around the corner into a dark and dirty alleyway that Craig had never even noticed before.

"I've been watching you," Pete said licking his lips slowly.

"You have?"

"Didn't think I'd get the chance to try you out myself though!"

"Must be your lucky day," Craig tried to laugh but it sounded forced and he let the sound die on his lips.

"Come here." Pete's instruction wasn't something Craig felt able to refuse and he moved to stand directly in front of the taller man. As Pete's hands rested on his shoulders Craig wondered if the strange man was going to kiss him. But Pete didn't like to waste time on such things and his hand pushed down hard causing Craig to sink to his knees, sharp stones digging into his skin making him whimper. Pete smiled at the sound as he lowered the zip of his jeans.

Craig watched mesmerised as Pete extracted his cock from the confines of his clothing. It was thick and solid and stood out proudly before Pete as he ran his hand over its length.

"Suck it."

"What…"

"Don't make me tell you again…"

Craig's lips were forced open as Pete pushed his cock against them, ramming it deeply into Craig's mouth until he gagged against it.

Holding Craig's face Pete began to move his hips to drive the solidness of his cock in and out of Craig's mouth, filling it completely until he feared he might choke and then pulling out making Craig gasp for air.

"Suck it harder," Pete demanded as he forced his cock deeper into Craig's throat.

Craig tried his best to comply as he gagged around the thickness pressing into the back of his throat but his restricted airflow was making it difficult.

Pete didn't seem aware of Craig's discomfort, or if he was he simply didn't care as he continued to drive his cock hard into Craig's hot mouth, fucking the face that he held tightly.

There was a moment as Craig struggled for air, that he wondered if he might actually choke to death on the large cock pushing into his throat. He could feel darkness pressing at the side of his eyes and he could feel the first tendrils of unconsciousness tickling at the back of his mind.

Just as he started to think that letting the blackness take him wouldn't be all that bad Pete dropped his hold of Craig's face and stepped back.

Craig coughed and gasped for air as the thickness of Pete's cock slipped from his mouth and placed his hands on the floor to steady himself.

"Get up," Pete said after a few minutes and, when Craig didn't react immediately, he grabbed the younger man's arm and pulled him to his feet.

Craig felt dazed as Pete pushed him face first against the wall, he could feel the rough brickwork scratching at his face and then the sudden rush of cold air as Pete pulled his trousers down to his knees.

Craig breathed a small sigh of relief at the sound of a condom wrapper being unopened, but his relief was short lived as Pete pushed his cock hard against Craig's tight hole.

Pete didn't bother wasting time with lube nor did he take the time to make sure his partner was relaxed enough to accommodate him. If the man before him should cry out in pain as he forced his way into their body then so much the better and if he begged him to stop, well for Pete that was the ultimate turn on.

Craig whimpered as the hardness of Pete's cock ploughed mercilessly into him. He felt as if his body was being torn apart but the aggressive intrusion and his exclamations of pain and discomfort made Pete pound even harder into him.

Craig closed his eyes tight and tried to distance himself from what was happening to him. After a while the pain eased but the violence with which Pete fucked him increased until his body was being slammed hard against the sold brick wall with each angry thrust.

Pete's fingers dug hard into the flesh of Craig's hips as he repeatedly drove his cock deep into the hot tight passage that held him. Pete had no concept of gentle. Never in his life had he wanted to "make love". For him it was about power, domination and his own satisfaction. Nothing and no one else mattered.

With a loud grunt Pete plunged his cock hard into Craig a few more times as he came. The second his climax ended Pete withdrew from Craig, dropped the used condom onto the floor, pulled up his zip and walked away.

Craig stood leaning against the wall for some time before he stopped shaking long enough to pull his trousers up. He turned so that his back was resting against the wall and slid down it until he was sat huddled on the cold floor.

He didn't notice the cold rain start to fall, just as he didn't notice the heat of the tears coursing down his cheeks. He felt numb. He felt sick. He felt violated and used. He felt worthless and cheap. He felt that he had got what he deserved.

Craig now knew what it was he had been looking for. He had wanted punishment and with Pete he received it.

Sitting with his back to the rough wall Craig wept. He had become a man he didn't recognise and certainly didn't like. He was lost in a world he no longer understood and he realised there was no one left to show him the way. There was no one left who could rescue him.

Craig was soaked through to the skin when he finally staggered his way back to his flat. He felt physically exhausted and emotionally broken.

Without removing his sodden clothing Craig curled onto his bed in the foetal position where he lay silently until the welcome release of sleep claimed him.


	2. Chapter 2

John Paul smiled as he drank his beer. He nodded and made sounds of agreement in his throat. He had been talking to the dark haired man in the bar for the last two hours and John Paul was ashamed to admit that he had only half heard what the man had been saying.

It wasn't that he was unattractive. On the contrary John Paul was in the company of a very attractive fellow student at HCC. He was everything John Paul should be looking for in a man… if John Paul had been looking for a man.

The only real problem was that the man's eyes weren't quite the right shade of brown, his skin didn't quite have that delicate olive tint and his lips didn't quite curve in that seductive way. The only real problem was that this man was not the man John Paul had left at the airport.

John Paul was suddenly aware of a silence. His companion had stopped talking and was looking at him in a way that suggested he was awaiting a response.

Feeling slightly flustered John Paul wondered if he could get away with faking it, would a simple yes or no reply be sufficient?

The man laughed. "You haven't heard a word I've said have you?"

John Paul turned his eyes to the floor sheepishly. "I'm really sorry," he said, "It's not you… I guess I'm just a bit distracted."

The man placed his hand on John Paul's arm.

John Paul hadn't realised he was cold until he felt the warmth of those fingers radiate over his skin. His face turned slowly to look at the hand resting warmly against his arm. It seemed so long since someone that wasn't related to him had touched him. It seemed so long since he felt any affection from someone who wasn't a relative. It seemed so long since he walked away from the airport.

"It's OK," the man was continuing as he squeezed at John Paul's upper arm, "This place isn't the best for any in-depth conversations!"

John Paul looked around the crowded Subar and had to agree. The music was pumping heavily and it sent vibrations echoing through his body. Crowds of students stood or sat together talking loudly heading rapidly towards drunken oblivion.

The man leaned into John Paul's ear. "How about we get out of here," he suggested, "We could go back to mine for a drink."

John Paul looked into the deep dark eyes that weren't quite the right shade of brown and smiled. He knew, as much as his new friend did, that it wasn't really a drink that was on offer that evening.

Taking a deep breath John Paul nodded. It had been a long time since he felt wanted, since he felt desired and he thought that it was about time he started to live his life again. In the arms of an attractive man seemed a good a place to begin as any.

The flat was small and the living area seemed crowded by the over stuffed sofa in its centre. John Paul had little time to take in any of the room's décor as, the second the door closed behind him, John Paul felt the heat of his new friends lips against his.

John Paul's arms wrapped around the firm body before him as he closed his eyes and sank into the kiss. The lips pressing against his were soft but kissed him firmly, a hot tongue pushed its way inside his mouth and John Paul tasted it hungrily. For a second John Paul was surprised at how good kissing this virtual stranger could feel. How the pure physical contact could make his pulse race and push away the empty ache that had haunted him for weeks.

The dark haired men increased the intensity of his kiss as his hand began to glide over John Paul's hips, squeezing at the flesh there and then moving around to his thighs and finally massaging heavily at the growing hardness in John Paul's jeans.

John Paul moaned softly into his partner's mouth as the strong hand eased its way inside his clothing and gripped tightly around his aching cock.

The man's mouth moved to John Paul's ear and, pausing to nibble lightly on its lobe, whispered heavily into it.

"I've been watching you for days you know," he breathed, "Ever since I first saw you I've been dreaming about this… fantasising about you fucking me… I don't think I can wait any longer."

John Paul swallowed heavily as the man stepped back from him and unfastened his trousers. Their eyes were locked together for a second and John Paul forgot how to breathe. He gasped for air as the man turned from him and, easing his trousers down past his hips, rested his hands against the back of the sofa and waited.

Licking his lips John Paul stepped forward as a nervous excitement bubbled through him. The man had peaked his desire and John Paul was desperate for the release he now offered.

John Paul's hands trembled slightly as they massaged the buttocks that were being presented to him, parting them slightly to reveal the target of his lust nestled between before squeezing them back together.

Moistening his finger in his mouth John Paul pressed it against the man's tight opening. The man moaned softly as John Paul pushed his fingertip gently inside. The man's flesh seemed to open to him easily and John Paul pushed deeper inside, soon adding a second and then third finger and still the man begged for more.

Fishing his wallet from his back pocket John Paul extracted a condom and quickly slipped it over his length, letting the wrapped fall forgotten to the floor.

He directed his cock against the prepared opening before him and pushed. Both men moaned in pleasure as John Paul's cock slowly slid into the hot tight passage that was desperate for him.

Moving deeper into the eager body John Paul sighed with the simple physical contentment that he felt. Gripping the man's hips for support John Paul began to move. With a gentle in and out motion John Paul rocked his cock inside the man, watching with erotic fascination as the man's body gripped at his erection and swallowed it whole.

The man moved one hand from the back of the sofa and curled his fingers around his own aching cock. He stroked it in time with the thrusts of John Paul inside him, slowly at first as he tried to make the pleasure last, but the feel of John Paul soon had him masturbating himself fiercely as John Paul's speed increased leaving them both panting and gasping as much needed release raced towards them.

The man cried out repeating the words "Oh fuck yes," over and over again as his cock pulsed heavily in his hand and exploded the strength of his desire, coming hard and fast over himself.

John Paul closed his eyes and allowed the sensations of his flesh to wash over him as his balls began to contract. The man's body tightened around his cock and John Paul's need was finally pushed over the edge making him cry out unintelligible words as his climax shook his body with force and he poured himself into the body of the stranger before him.

As soon as the pleasure from his orgasm faded John Paul felt an instant discomfort, fastening his trousers he excused himself with a request for the bathroom.

Once inside the small room John Paul dropped the used condom into the toilet and, leaning his hands on the edge of the sink, he stared at his own reflection.

He wasn't this kind of man. He wasn't the kind of man who came home with virtual strangers for quick emotionless sex. Or at least he never used to be this kind of a man. Not until… not until the day he left the airport.

John Paul splashed cold water onto his face and took a deep breath as he headed back to his new friend.

"Look I should really be…" John Paul grimaced as he made a point of looking at his watch.

"It's OK," the dark haired man replied with a smile, "I didn't expect you to stay for cuddles!"

"No I really have to…" John Paul shrugged. He had nowhere he needed to be, he knew it and he was certain that his companion knew it.

"Are you ever gonna ask my name?" the man enquired with a wry smile.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

The man held out his hand in mimicry of an introduction.

John Paul took the warm hand with a smile. "I'm John Paul," he said.

"I know," the dark haired man replied, "I'm Craig."

John Paul felt frozen to the spot. The smile on his face was fixed and its presence made his cheeks hurt. He tried to repeat the name but his mouth refused to form around it.

After a few more pleasantries the man, the man called Craig, kissed him on the cheek as he let him out of the front door.

John Paul had made it half way down the street before he doubled over and vomited heavily.

The taste of bile was bitter in his throat as he retched and his body shook violently as it tried to expel the contents of his stomach.

Craig. Of all the names in the world why had this man been called Craig? Of all the men in the bar why had this Craig chosen him?

John Paul lifted his face as the rain began to fall and he stood with it upturned allowing the water to wash over it. He hoped and prayed that it would wash away the feeling of dirt that covered his body, that it would wash away the shame that clung to his skin and that it would wash away the emptiness that echoed in his chest. But it was only rain and it did none of those things.

The door to the McQueen's house opened quietly and a sodden John Paul stepped inside. His clothes clung coldly to his skin making him shiver violently. His bedroom offered some small sanctuary and he curled up on the bed, still clothed in his soaking garments and waited for the comforting arms of sleep.

Moments before sleep finally took John Paul he saw two dark brown eyes watching him. They weren't they eyes of his companion from that day. They were the eyes that he had been trying to forget.

The porcelain of the sink felt cold under Craig's hands as he rested against it.

It had been two weeks since his encounter with Pete but even that experience hadn't kept him away from X. He felt drawn to the place like a moth to a flame and he was in just as much danger of getting burned.

Craig sighed as he looked at himself in the cracked, discoloured mirror above the sink. He hardly recognised the face looking back at him. His eyes seemed dull and sunken, dark rings beneath illustrated his many sleepless nights and his once richly tanned skin now looked pale and sallow.

Listening to the sounds of a couple in the toilet cubicle Craig wondered how many men had stood where he was now and listened as he fucked another nameless stranger? How many more would stand there and hear him?

After Pete he had tried to convince himself that it was over, that he could walk away from this insane life he had found himself in but the very next night he walked back into the bar. The very next night he took another stranger into the gents. The very next night he swore it would be the last time. It was always going to be the last time.

The sounds from the cubical had peaked and Craig lifted his eyes to the mirror again in idle curiosity as the door opened. An older man he didn't recognise walked out first and a young blond man that made Craig's heart sink followed him. A young blond man with bright blue eyes.

"Hello again," the young man said smiling at Craig as his older lover returned to the bar.

"What are you doing here?"

"I thought that would be obvious," the young man laughed as he nodded his head towards the toilet door.

"I mean WHY are you here again… I thought I told you to keep away…"

"And the last time I looked you weren't my mother."

The young man opened the door into the bar and then looked back at Craig.

"I don't know what your problem is," he said, "You're having fun here… why shouldn't I?"

Craig sighed as the door swung closed behind the young man. Fun? Since when had any of this been fun? Craig's head hung down as a new feeling of shame and guilt clawed at his chest. Had he directed that young innocent man onto a path that would take him to where Craig now lived, or was it really possible to do what they did and only regard it as a bit of fun?

Craig's knuckles whitened as he gripped tightly onto the sink and he fought the sudden urge to vomit.

The constant background noise of the bar was such that Craig didn't hear the comings and goings of the bars customers as they passed in and out of the gents. He wasn't aware of anything until someone said his name.

"Craig? Craig Dean… is that you?"

Craig felt a tightness in his chest as a voice from another world spoke his name. It couldn't be him. It wasn't possible that it was him. As he turned to face the speaker Craig prayed that it wasn't him. But it was.

"Spike."

"What are you doing here?" Spike was taken aback by Craig's appearance. He hardly seemed a shadow of the bright lively young man he had known back in Hollyoaks.

"I live here… studying at Trinity…"

"I meant HERE, in this place…"

"I could ask you the same."

"I'm on holiday… visiting a few mates… they like this place."

"Nice to see you Spike," Craig moved to the door but Spike stepped in front of him to bar his exit.

"I'm sorry about you and John Paul… I heard what happened."

"Are you? You never really liked me…"

"That's not true Craig… YOU never liked ME… and I think we both know why… but I heard what you did, how you stood up for what was right… I respect that…"

"For all the good it did," Craig said quietly and Spike suddenly recognised the dark haunted look in Craig's eyes, he had seen it before and it made him fear for the ex of his ex.

"Come on," Spike grabbed Craig's arm and pulled him to the door.

"What..?"

"We're getting out of here."

"You're insane, I'm not going anywhere with you."

Spike stopped and looked into Craig's dark sunken eyes. There was a determination in Spike's eyes and Craig took an involuntary step back.

"We're getting out of here," Spike repeated, "It isn't a request."

"What about your mates?"

Spike sighed as he dragged Craig back into the bar, leaving him to one side as he walked over to a group of men by the bar. Craig could see Spike's hand move as he explained that he was leaving and the smiles on his friend's faces could only mean one thing.

Spike took a fresh hold on Craig's arm and directed him from the bar.

"They think you've pulled don't they?" Craig asked.

"Hmmm?"

"Your mates, they think I'm leaving with you coz you've pulled."

"Would you rather I told them the truth?"

"Which is what?" Once outside the bar Craig stopped and faced Spike, "What are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying to save you," Spike said gently and Craig had to fight off the sudden urge to weep.

Craig turned and started to walk up the deserted street. "I don't need saving… not by you… not by anyone."

"Don't you?" Spike grabbed Craig shoulders and used his hold on them to pin Craig against a wall. "So tell me, what do you want?"

"What does it matter to you?" Craig asked trying to shrug Spike's hold but Spike didn't relax his grip for a second.

"Coz I've been where you are… and I know what you're doing…"

Craig eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" Spike said with a soft laugh, "I know I might come across as a figure of perfection… but I've had my heart broken too…I was in love with someone once who meant the world to me… I thought we were forever… I thought we would grow old together… I would have stepped in front of a speeding train for him… I actually considered it afterwards… He was my life and I thought I was his."

"What happened?" Spike had dropped his hold of Craig's shoulders but Craig no longer felt like walking away.

"I wasn't what he wanted and one day… he left me…"

A sudden thought occurred to Craig. "It wasn't..?"

Spike laughed. "John Paul? No it was long before him… John Paul was special, but he wasn't the love of my life… like I wasn't the love of his, I always knew that… I just didn't realise it was because you were."

"He didn't love me enough to come with me," Craig said sadly lowering his chin.

Spike's hand was soft and gentle as it touched Craig's cheek. "Have you ever thought maybe he loved you enough to let you go?"

Craig shook his head. "So what happened… to you… after this guy broke your heart?"

"I did what I think you're doing…"

"And what's that?"

"I tried to fill the emptiness with the one thing guaranteed to make it worse. I tried to convince myself that shagging countless strangers would make me feel better, but it doesn't, does it Craig?"

Craig shook his head.

"Night after night in a place like that one," Spike continued, "Searching for something I couldn't ever find there. Giving myself to anyone who was even slightly interested, desperate to feel… to feel anything. I was heading down a path of destruction and it nearly killed me… don't let that happen to you Craig, get off now before it's too late… before it doesn't matter if it's pleasure or pain you're feeling as long as you're feeling something… before you can't feel anything at all."

"What if it's already too late?" Craig's voice was hardly a whisper but Spike could hear a long forgotten but frighteningly familiar pain in it.

"It wasn't too late for me Craig," Spike said pulling the shaking young man into his arms, "And it doesn't have to be for you, not if you don't want it to be."

Spike held Craig close as he wept, fighting back his own tears at the memories of a pain he had tried to forget, a pain that he had seen deep inside Craig's eyes.

"Come on," Spike said after a while, "Let's get you home."

"You don't know where I live," Craig replied trying to smile through his tears.

"So show me," Spike told him as they headed off.

Craig realised with surprise that Spike was his first guest in his Dublin flat and he saw the place with stranger's eyes as Spike took in the cold stark walls and lack of any personalisation.

"I like what you've done with the place," Spike said with a grin.

"It's not much, but it's home," Craig replied returning Spike's smile, "Coffee?"

Spike looked at his watch, it was already gone midnight. "I should really be…"

"Don't go," Craig reply was sudden and it surprised them both, "Please don't go… stay with me…"

"Craig I don't think it's a good idea if we…"

"I don't mean that… I just… I don't want to be alone tonight," Craig looked pleadingly at Spike and then looked away with embarrassment. "I'm being silly," Craig said with a faked laugh, "You probably want to get back to your mates, don't mind me, I'll be fine."

Spike's hand was warm on Craig's shoulder. "I'll stay," he said quietly and Craig felt a tremendous sense of relief.

Spike kicked off his shoes before climbing onto Craig's bed and the younger man fell into his open arms gratefully. Craig rested his head against Spike's chest as the man's arms wrapped around him warmly and for the first time since arriving in Dublin Craig felt safe.

Spike listened as Craig's breathing deepened and sleep took him. The last thing he would have expected was to be lying with the man who stole John Paul from him and offering him comfort. But he couldn't leave Craig to face the life of pain and heartache he could see he was heading for.

Craig's dreams were troubled and he shook in Spike's arms, whimpering and crying out in his sleep. Spike made soft comforting sounds in his throat as he stroked Craig's hair gently.

"It's OK," Spike whispered as he kissed the top of Craig's head, "It's going to be OK."

John Paul closed his eyes and leant back in the armchair enjoying the peace and quite of the normally boisterous McQueen house.

As much as he loved his mother and sisters John Paul savoured these rare moments of solitude when the he had the house to himself and he let the unusual silence envelope him.

He relaxed into the comfort of the chair and tried let go of his worries.

John Paul was on the edge of sleep when a pounding on the front door made him sit upright with a start. He considered ignoring the visitor in the hope that they would go away and he could return to his silence, but the persistent knocking was relentless and he finally rose reluctantly to his feet.

John Paul was pushed back into the house as soon as he opened the front door and the man waiting outside barged his way in.

"Spike…" John Paul said somewhat flustered, "What's going on?"

Spike looked around the room with wild staring eyes. "Are you on your own."

"No, you're here," John Paul laughed, but a sharp look from Spike let him know that the man wasn't in the mood for jokes. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you…"

"OK…?"

Spike rubbed his hands over his face and dropped the overnight bag he had been carrying to the floor. He hadn't stopped travelling since he left Craig back in Dublin earlier that morning and the tiredness caused by the previous nights lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him.

He had held onto Craig gently as the younger man had slept in his arms. Spike hadn't been able to find enough peace in himself to sleep and had watched as the night brightened into day and Craig awoke, looking far better than the dark eyed haunted figure that Spike had found in the club the previous evening.

Spike knew that Craig had a long journey if he was ever going to find his way back to the man he had been and he hated having to walk away and leave him to cope alone. But Spike had prior commitments that he was unable to cancel, and if he couldn't be there to offer Craig the support he needed, then there was only one other person that he knew would be suitable for the job.

"You need to go to Dublin." John Paul was surprised at Spike's words. Of all the things he had been expecting to hear that certainly wasn't listed amongst them.

"What are you talking about?"

"You need to get on a plane to Dublin and go and see Craig."

"You're mad… me and Craig… that's all over."

"So that means you don't care what happens to him anymore does it?" Spike paced the room as he spoke.

"Of course I care… but…"

"John Paul listen to me," Spike held the younger man's shoulders and looked insistently into the brightness of his blue eyes. "Craig needs you… I'm not saying you should pack up and move over there… but go and see him, let him know he's not alone… He's lost out there John Paul and I'm worried about him… really worried."

John Paul frowned as the concern in Spike's eyes gripped his heart with panic.

"How do you know what's going on with Craig?"

"I've seen him… I was over in Dublin last night… he's in a mess…" Spike looked at his watch, he was already late. "Please John Paul I can't explain… I don't have time… but he needs you… trust me."

Spike headed back to the still open front door.

"I don't know where to find him," John Paul said quietly to Spike's retreating back.

Spike shoved his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper, which he handed to John Paul. There was a Dublin address written on the paper in Spike's hasty scrawl, an address he had copied from a letter that he found in Craig's flat while the man was out of the room.

John Paul read the address and frowned.

"What's this other address, this X?"

Spike took hold of John Paul's hand and curled it around the paper.

"If he's not at home that's where you'll find him," Spike said sadly, "I hope to god you find him at home John Paul."

With that Spike was gone and John Paul was left wondering what exactly has just happened, but one lingering factor remained. Craig needed him.

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Craig sat in his flat staring at a blank TV screen.

He wasn't aware that he was rocking in his seat.

He wasn't aware that he was chewing on his fingernails.

He wasn't aware that he was letting out a low plaintive moan.

He wasn't aware of anything but the desperate ache deep inside him.

When Spike left the previous morning Craig had felt strong. Having Spike to confide in, having Spike to understand and to tell him that all wasn't lost seemed to lift the great weight that had been holding Craig down. Having Spike turn from a man that Craig hated into the one who gave him much needed support came as a surprise, but a surprise that Craig had been grateful for at the time.

As Spike left the flat that morning he had hugged Craig close to him and asked the younger man to promise not to return to X. Craig had returned the hug and found the promise easy to make, he didn't need that place anymore.

Now, almost 24 hours later, Craig wasn't feeling so strong. The emptiness was growing inside him again and the need to fill it was overwhelming.

An hour later Craig decided to go out for a drink.

An hour and a half later Craig walked through the doors of X.

Two hours later Craig followed another stranger into the gents.


	3. Chapter 3

As Craig pushed himself hard into the hot body he held against the toilet door he realised that he couldn't even remember what this man looked like. He couldn't remember if he'd fucked him before. He couldn't remember a word either of them had said that brought them together here.

The only things Craig was certain of was the pleasure of that hot tight flesh contracting around his cock and the feeling of self loathing that was rising up inside him.

Craig slammed himself hard and fast into the body before him, no longer caring if his partner was getting any enjoyment from it, no longer caring if his actions were causing pleasure or pain, no longer caring about anything but having this over and reaching the moment of climax that would, albeit for the briefest of time, take everything else away.

Just like so many times before, the second that Craig's orgasm ended he felt the need to flee. He was still fastening his trousers as he opened the cubicle door and, as he looked up; he saw something that made him wish he had kept the door closed a little while longer.

Craig's gaze landed on the perfect face of a blonde haired blue-eyed man and he felt frozen to the spot. It wasn't the young man the he had met recently in this very club but rather it was the one he had loved a lifetime ago.

Craig felt hands on his shoulders moving him to one side. "Come on let me out," Craig's latest conquest said with a laugh as he pushed past Craig and out of the toilet cubicle.

John Paul stared unblinking at Craig. The man looked so unlike the one he had walked away from all those weeks ago. There was a hardness in those once soft dark eyes that made a chill run down John Paul's spine.

He couldn't mistake what he was witnessing as Craig fumbled with his trousers, pulling up the zip as his face flushed. John Paul felt the bitterness of bile rising in his throat and, shaking his head sadly, he ran from the gents.

"John Paul…" Craig's voice was barely a whisper but it didn't matter because there was no one left to hear it.

Craig raced from the club to see John Paul already half way down the street.

"John Paul wait," Craig called out desperately.

John Paul's pace slowed and he finally stopped and turned, allowing Craig to catch up with him.

"It's not…" Craig began but John Paul cut him off.

"Please don't tell me it's not what I think…"

"But it's… I don't know what to say." Craig reached out his hands to John Paul but he felt unable to bridge the chasm between them.

"It's fine," John Paul replied with a shrug, "We're both free agents… you can shag whoever you like… wherever you like… but really Craig… in the toilets? Isn't that a bit cliché?"

"It's not like that," Craig hung his head, "It's not about the sex."

"Where have I heard that before," John Paul said with a bitter laugh, "I don't even know why I'm here."

"So why are you?"

"Spike told me that you needed me… looks like he was wrong. You seem to have found a replacement very quickly. But not to worry eh? It's not like I've been going without since you left you know."

John Paul turned and began to walk away. "One thing though Craig," he said turning back, "Does this mean you've finally decided to admit you're gay?"

Craig covered his face with his hands for a second and when he dropped them the eyes that looked at John Paul were filled with anger.

"It always has to come down to that doesn't it?" Craig spat out, "Gay, straight, bi, what does it matter John Paul? Why were you always so desperate to label me? Couldn't I have just been Craig… couldn't you have been happy with that?"

"I tried to be," John Paul replied as he walked back towards Craig, "It was you that was always trying to hide what you were… what you are."

"Maybe I didn't know," Craig voice wavered on the edge of hysterics as he felt the anger and frustration building in him, "Did you ever think that I just didn't know… I just wanted to love you… we could have worked out the rest of it."

"Love me?" John Paul sneered, "You couldn't even touch me in public… and now you're here shagging strangers in a toilet… I don't know you anymore Craig… I don't think I want to."

"What makes you so certain he was a stranger? Are you so sure I haven't replaced you completely?"

John Paul laughed. "Come on Craig… I saw the way you were, the way he walked off. That was nothing more than a quick fuck, maybe that's all you've ever really wanted… maybe that's all I was."

"Yeah maybe you were," Craig snapped back, hating every word that came from his mouth but somehow unable to stop them, "And not a very good one at that."

John Paul raised his hands in resignation. "I don't know what I'm even doing here. I don't know why I bothered coming."

"So why did you?"

"I thought that someone I cared about needed me… but it seems there's no one like that around here anymore. Goodbye Craig… enjoy your life."

Craig didn't see the tears the tumbled down John Paul's cheeks as he turned away.

"Go on then," Craig called to John Paul's retreating back, "Walk away again… you're getting good at that… it must be all the practice you've been getting."

John Paul continued to walk. He couldn't look back. He couldn't stand to see the bitter angry person that had taken over the form of someone he once loved.

"Please don't go John Paul… I do need you." Craig's voice was a pitiful whisper and there was no one left to hear it.

---

John Paul collapsed onto the hard mattress of the bed in the cheap B&B that he had found a few hours earlier. It was lumpy and uncomfortable but John Paul didn't care, he didn't expect to be getting much sleep anyway.

He couldn't believe what he had witnessed at X, he couldn't believe how much Craig had changed in a few short weeks and he couldn't believe that Spike would send him there to see the man he had loved acting like that.

John Paul started to wonder if that had been Spike's plan from the start. Although they had never discussed it he knew that Spike was aware he had been sleeping with Craig behind his back. Was this some sort of bitter revenge? Did Spike deliberately send John Paul to Dublin knowing that he would find Craig with someone else, with several someone else's?

He shook his head. Surely Spike wouldn't be that cruel and the worry in his eyes when he turned up at the McQueen's house had been genuine.

That could only mean one thing.

John Paul was an idiot and there was something happening to Craig that his jealousy and anger hadn't let him see.

John Paul sat upright just as his phone began to ring.

---

Craig stood watching the empty street for several minutes after John Paul had departed, hoping and praying that the man would come back but he never did.

Craig could have kicked himself for his stupidity. Why did he have to say those things? Why couldn't he have taken the time to explain? But mostly why couldn't John Paul see how much Craig needed him?

Craig felt the emptiness gripping at his chest again, colder and darker than it had ever been before. He recalled the look of disgust in John Paul's eyes and he knew it was a look he deserved.

Spike had thought he saw someone worth saving. But Spike had been wrong. There was nothing left inside Craig now but bitterness and pain. The vague flicker of hope that had burned in the corner of his heart, the dream that one day John Paul would be there to hold him again, was extinguished as the blonde haired man walked away and never looked back.

Dejected Craig walked back into X and the first person he saw was Pete. The man was stood at the bar and their eyes met as Craig approached.

People like John Paul, people who loved him and cared for him, people who treated him with respect and sensitivity, they were in his past now. People like Pete, people who only wanted to use him for what they could get, for what they could take, this was his future and, as Craig approached the dark intimidating man, he felt no fear because his ability to feel had died.

---

John Paul answered his phone with reservation. "Spike?"

"How's it going… did you find him?"

"Spike I think I've messed up… really messed up." John Paul closed his eyes as he held the phone hard against his ear.

"John Paul what have you done? Was Craig at the club?"

"Why didn't you warn me? Why didn't you tell me what I was gonna find there… why didn't you tell me what he was doing?"

"John Paul tell me what you did… Christ tell me you didn't make this worse."

"We… we argued… I couldn't stand what I saw in him… I told him… god I think I told him that I didn't care about him anymore… What have I done Spike?"

There was a silence at the other end of the phone. Spike had been so certain that John Paul would have been able to see Craig's pain, would have been able to save him from it or at least show Craig that there was another way. But maybe you had to have been there to really understand. Maybe you had to suffer that pain to truly know how it felt. And maybe it was time for Spike to tell John Paul everything that he needed to know in the hope that it wasn't already too late.

Spike spoke softly and calmly, hardly pausing for breath in the fear that if he stopped talking he might never be able to start again. He told John Paul of the time he had been in Craig's shoes. He told him of the emptiness and the pain and the longing for something, anything, to take that away. He told John Paul how he had held Craig through the long hours of the night and he told John Paul of the fears and screams that broke into Craig's dreams as he slept.

Finally Spike told John Paul that if he didn't find him, if he couldn't reach him now it would be too late and the man that Craig had been would be lost, forever.

"What do I do Spike? I love him so much but I don't know what to do."

"For gods sake find him John Paul," Spike said with desperation, "Find him and tell him and just pray that there's enough of him left to be able to hear you."

John Paul was out of the door before he had even ended the call.

---

Craig could feel the blood from his nose trickling over his chin but he made no effort to stop it. Just like he had made no effort to stop Pete's fist when it had smashed into his face. The man was strong and the punch had sent Craig staggering backwards, but he made no sound, he raised no hand to protect himself, he simply stood and allowed the fist to collide with his face again.

The lack of response from Craig had infuriated Pete. He thrived on the screams, the pain, the pitiful begging but Craig had stood impassively as Pete's knuckles crashed into his nose and the blood started to flow.

Even now, with his body pressed up against the rough brick wall and Pete's cock ploughing hard and fast inside him Craig made no sound. Pete grunted with the effort as he used all of his strength against the body before him, forcing himself roughly into the softness of the younger man, desperately trying to make him scream, but there was nothing. It was as if the body Pete fucked was an empty shell and Craig was no longer present.

Craig felt no pain as Pete continued to attack his flesh with violence. He felt no distress and no fear. He simply felt the cold emptiness of nothing as he accepted his fate, accepted that he was no longer a person.

As Pete's arm tightened around Craig's throat he could feel his airflow becoming restricted but Craig didn't struggle, nor did he gasp for the air that was being stolen from him. He simply waited to see if this was the end.

But Craig wasn't completely empty and he wasn't completely alone. As his body shook with the force of the acts being performed on it, deep inside him, hidden even deeper than Craig could reach was a memory that tickled softly at the corner of Craig's mind. A memory of soft warm arms holding him close. A memory of a gentle voice whispering into his ear. A memory of the words that he never expected to hear again.

"I love you Craig, so much…"

The pressure against Craig's throat increased and the blackness finally came to take him. As consciousness left his body Craig could see something glowing in the dark. Two bright blue eyes shone like diamonds as they looked at him. Two bright blue eyes that were filled with love. And then there was only darkness and silence.

Pete grunted as he came inside the weak submissive body.

As the arm around Craig's throat released its grip his body slumped to the floor like an old discarded rag doll. Broken and mistreated and no longer of any use to anyone.

---

John Paul pushed open the door to X in the vain hope that he would find Craig sat at the bar but deep inside he always knew it wasn't going to be that easy.

Racing up to the barman John Paul spoke with a breathless hurried voice. "I'm looking for Craig… Craig Dean… have you seen him."

The barman shrugged. "Sorry mate… we don't go in for names much around here."

John Paul sighed with frustration. "OK… err… he's about my height, dark hair, brown eyes…" The barman's expression remained impassive. "He's got a little mole just here," as John Paul touched his finger to the top of his lip a note of recognition lit in the barman's eyes.

"Oh him, yeah nice fella. Afraid you've missed him though. He left a while ago with Pete."

"I thought you didn't go in for names."

"Everyone knows Pete," the barman replied with a sad regretful look, "And everyone who knows him remembers him… he's not known as Pete the psycho for nothing."

The cold hand around John Paul's heart tightened. "Do you know where they've gone… where he usually goes?"

There was a look of desperation in John Paul's eyes and the barman couldn't help the sympathy he felt for this gentle looking young man.

"Look mate you're better off without him. If he's into the sorta stuff Pete likes… well you can do better…"

"Please," John Paul begged, "If you know anything just tell me… tell me where he might be."

The barman shook his head sadly. "If he's with Pete he could be anywhere… in an alleyway… in the gutter… in a hospital bed…"

"Hospital?" John Paul grabbed onto the edge of the bar to steady himself as the room around him began to spin.

"Pete likes to play rough," the barman explained unconsciously touching at a scar on the side of his face, "And sometimes he forgets to stop… no that's not true… sometimes he doesn't want to stop."

John Paul observed the barman carefully. He didn't seem like a bad man but at that moment the sight of him made John Paul feel sick.

"How can you stand to work here?" John Paul asked in a hushed tone.

"Better this side of the bar than that one," the barman replied as John Paul walked away, "Good luck finding your friend… you'll need it."

The air outside felt cold and it seemed to tear at John Paul's skin.

Lifting his face to the sky he called out as loudly as he could. "Craig where are you?" But silence was his only reply. "Where are you Craig?" he whispered quietly, "Please god let me find him."

He brushed the tears from his cheeks angrily. If anything had happened to Craig he would never be able to forgive himself, anything worse than what the man had already suffered that is.

He had listened in silence as Spike had explained just how hurt and lost Craig really was and with each word John Paul's feelings of guilt and shame and multiplied.

He had once promised Craig that he would always love him, that he would always be there for him, but in that moment when Craig really needed him all John Paul had been able to see was his own jealousy and rage and he had pushed Craig even further away. Maybe too far away to find him this time.

John Paul McQueen walked the streets and back alleys of Dublin. He asked anyone who would stop and talk to him if they had seen Craig but every reply was the same.

He phoned the local hospitals and felt a momentary relief that no one fitting Craig's description had been admitted, at least not yet.

He stood outside the police station for several minutes with the fear in his heart that maybe Craig wasn't in a hospital because this time Pete had gone too far. But John Paul wasn't ready to admit that possibility yet and so he walked away without going inside to ask if any bodies matching that of Craig had been found.

As the dark night began to brighten into morning John Paul's feelings of distress deepened. How was he supposed to find a man who didn't want to be found and how could he save someone who didn't want to be saved.

John Paul's last desperate attempt to find Craig led him to Craig's flat. It was late now, or early depending on how you looked at it and there was the chance, the hope, however slim that Craig had made his way home.

As John Paul raised his hand to ring the doorbell he held out little hope that the door would be opened to him.

When he heard a key turn in the lock his heart raced.

When he saw the battered and bruised face on the other side of the door John Paul nearly wept.

Consciousness had returned to Craig sometime after Pete had dropped him in the alleyway. Every inch of his body screamed with pain as he moved and his face felt stiff with dried blood. In the dark he had dreamt of a voice calling his name but when he awoke he was alone. He was always alone.

Craig had walked slowly back to his flat, turning his face from anyone who looked his way. Not in an attempt to hide his cuts and bruises but to hide his shame.

He had sat in the half-light of his room for the last few hours. Not moving and trying not to think. Every time he closed his eyes he saw John Paul's face, staring at him, filled with disgust. John Paul's voice echoed in Craig's head. "I thought that someone I cared about needed me… but it seems there's no one like that around here anymore."

"No John Paul," Craig had whispered into the silence, "There's no one like that here anymore."

When the doorbell rang Craig rose wearily to his feet. He didn't much care who was at the door but was simply acting on instinct. The bell rang so you answered the door. He didn't expect the soft blue eyes to be on the other side of the door as he opened it.

"Craig!" the shock in John Paul's voice was evident and Craig walked back to the living room without comment leaving John Paul to trail behind him.

"Craig what's happened," John Paul touched his hand to Craig's shoulder and the man jumped violently at the gentle contact.

Craig turned to face his old lover. "What do you want John Paul? Haven't we said all that needed to be said?"

John Paul felt the tears welling in his eyes and he blinked them furiously away. He wanted so much to hold Craig and tell him everything would be OK but he couldn't. He couldn't move as he looked at the broken features of the man before him.

Craig's right eye was swollen and already turning black, his lip was cut and dried blood covered his chin and had soaked into the cotton of his shirt.

John Paul's fingertips brushed softly over Craig's cheek, making the man flinch as if he had been struck.

"Did Pete do this to you?"

Craig eyes widened in surprise. "What do you know of Pete?"

"I went back to X looking for you… the barman told me."

Craig grabbed John Paul's shoulders tightly; his eyes glared with anger, or was it fear? "Don't you ever go back there," Craig said through gritted teeth, "I don't want you ever setting foot in that place again… promise me… keep away from there."

John Paul looked into the darkness of Craig's eyes and thought he saw the briefest hint of someone he once knew. "So you still care about something then?" John Paul asked quietly.

Craig's hands fell to his sides as he turned from John Paul. The thought of that gentle man in such a place as X filled him with fear and Craig was surprised at the emotion. He was surprised to discover that he could still feel.

"John Paul…" the name was a whisper on Craig's lips and the arms that snaked around his body were warm and soft.

"I'm here," John Paul replied.

"I don't know what to do…"

"Then let me help you… you're not alone anymore Craig… you never have to be alone again."

Craig shrugged off the arms that held him. As he spun around his eyes flashed with anger and John Paul felt himself take a fearful step backwards.

John Paul had managed to damage the wall that Craig had built around himself, the wall that stopped him from hurting, stopped him from feeling, but in cracking that wall he had also released all of the anger and resentment that Craig had carried with him since the moment he boarded the plane to Dublin.

"You left me." Craig spat out the accusation with venom.

"I didn't… it wasn't…"

"I was prepared to give up everything for you… I nearly lost my family FOR YOU… I threw away everything that I had and you just turned around and left me."

"It wasn't that simple Craig… it wasn't right…" John Paul reached out his hands but Craig slapped them away angrily.

"You walked away and left me with nothing… I came here and I had NOTHING… I WAS nothing… you broke my heart John Paul and then you walked away." Tears began to flow over Craig's cheeks leaving streaks in the blood that was caked on his skin.

"You think it didn't hurt me to leave you? You think it didn't break my heart too walking away like that? That I didn't want to get on that plane with you and just hope that everything would turn out OK?" The pain in Craig's eyes tore at John Paul's heart as he struggled to hold back his own tears.

"So why didn't you?"

"I thought… I didn't want you to end up resenting me being here… I didn't think you were ready… for us… not really… I didn't…" John Paul shook his head as he struggled to find the words. "I'm so sorry Craig… I didn't realise…"

"You broke me." The words were spoken so quietly that John Paul hardly heard them but their meaning sliced through his chest like a cold blade.

"It's all my fault," The guilt washed over John Paul like a tidal wave ripping the air from his lungs, "I've caused all this haven't I? I didn't know Craig… I didn't think that…"

"I loved you John Paul… I thought we had forever… you walked away."

"Craig…" John Paul felt as lost as the man before him had been for so long and he wasn't sure he could save either of them. Craig's words echoed in his head, "I loved you… loved… LOVED…" Past tense.

"I'm so sorry Craig," John Paul's hold on his tears had given way and they cascaded down his cheeks as he spoke, "But I'm here now… please give me a chance… let me put things right… I love you Craig, I've never stopped loving you."

John Paul reached out to Craig but the damaged man turned away from him.

"It's too late," he said regretfully, "You don't know… what I've done, who I've become… you don't know what I am."

John Paul held Craig's shoulders gently as he turned the man to face him. Placing his hand under Craig's chin he titled his face upwards until blue eyes met brown.

"I know," John Paul said softly, "Spike told me everything."

Craig closed his eyes in shame. "Then how can you even bare to look at me? To touch me? I'm filth John Paul, I'm poison…" He opened his eyes again to see the brilliant blue still looking at him, still gentle and caring. "I'm nothing John Paul… I'm…"

John Paul placed a finger lightly on Craig's lips.

"You're the person that I love," he said with a small smile, "You always have been and you always will be… nothing that's happened here… nothing that ever happens can change that. You're in my heart Craig Dean… You ARE my heart."

Craig allowed himself to be pulled against John Paul's chest as two warm strong arms enveloped him.

"Come home Craig," John Paul whispered into Craig's hair as the man sobbed against him, "It's time to come back home."

Craig sank into the warmth and security of John Paul's embrace. For the longest time Craig had been convinced that he would never be held with affection again, his life had been ruled by want and desire, a basic lust that was satisfied hurriedly without any emotion, except for maybe his own disgust.

And when Craig had given up hope, when he felt lost and alone, John Paul was there and Craig knew that there was still a chance, that he was no longer beyond salvation.

Craig turned his tear stained eyes to John Paul. "How do I come home? What do I say… how do I explain?"

John Paul stroked Craig's hair gently. "It doesn't matter… tell people that you hated Dublin, that you got homesick, anything… just come home."

"And this?" Craig gestured at his cuts and bruises, there was no way he could hide the damage that Pete had inflicted on him and it would be a long time before they healed, but not as long as the deeper wounds that no one could see.

John Paul shrugged. "Say you got mugged… Craig stop looking for reasons not to come home, I'm not gonna leave you here… I won't leave you alone again."

Craig clung to John Paul with the desperation of a drowning man who had just been offered a life belt and, for the first time since arriving in Dublin, the empty ache in his chest was replaced with hope and with the love that he had been afraid he would never feel again.

"Come on," John Paul released his hold of Craig and instead took his hand.

"Where?"

"Bedroom."

Craig's eyes filled with panic as he stepped away from John Paul's hand. "I can't… please John Paul don't make me…"

John Paul's smile was soft as he touched his hand to Craig's face. "You're exhausted," he said, "You need some sleep Craig… that's all, I want you to get some sleep."

John Paul touched his lips feather soft against Craig's damaged mouth. "I would never push you into anything you're not ready for Craig, never…"

The gratitude in Craig's eyes broke John Paul's heart afresh. Just when he thought he knew how bad things had been for Craig he learned that the damage ran a little deeper. For Craig to think that John Paul would want sex from him at a time like that, when he had suffered so much, to think that John Paul would demand such a thing from him. Fighting back the anger and disgust that rose inside him for the people that had hurt his love this way John Paul took Craig's hand and then looked at Craig. "Which door?"

Craig indicated the door that lead to his bedroom with a nod of his head and John Paul led the man to his room.

Once inside the room John Paul was struck by how stark it looked. Craig's suitcase was still in one corner with clothes strewn around it, as if he had only just arrived, as if he hadn't felt like he was staying, he hadn't felt like he belonged.

John Paul carefully undid the buttons of Craig's blood stained shirt and slipped it from his shoulders. He tried not to wince as he saw the bruising spread across Craig's chest. It was a multitude of shades of greens and purples and John Paul was certain that not all of the bruises were recent.

Craig's eyes were fixed on John Paul as the man touched him gently, more gently than he ever remember being touched before. John Paul's eyes were travelling over his chest, his fingertips brushing against his damaged skin but Craig didn't feel the shame that he usually felt when he saw himself, for once he felt safe and he felt the life seeping back into his heart.

"Get into bed Craig, I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back… I promise."

Craig peeled the rest of his clothes from his body and slipped between the cool cotton sheets allowing the softness of the mattress and pillow to take his weight as he relaxed against them.

John Paul returned to the room a few minutes later with a small bowl of warm water and a cloth. He knelt beside Craig's bed and dipped the edge of the cloth into the water. He began to wipe lightly at Craig's face. The water in the bowl quickly turned a rusty colour as John Paul carefully washed the blood from Craig's skin, revealing the cuts and bruises that had been hidden beneath, making Craig look more damaged and vulnerable than he had before.

"How's that feel?" John Paul asked once Craig's face had been completely cleaned.

"Better, thank you." Craig smiled around his cut lips and he turned his face to kiss the hand that was leaning against his cheek.

"Now you get some sleep and then we'll sort everything else out."

John Paul rose to his feet and Craig's hand grabbed at his arm.

"Don't go…" Craig's eyes looked up at John Paul pleadingly.

"I'm not going anywhere," John Paul assured him as he placed the bowl of bloody water to one side and kicked off his shoes.

John Paul climbed onto the bed and opened his arms as Craig snuggled against his chest. John Paul could remember vividly Spike's words as he described holding Craig through the night, how Craig screamed and fought with the horrors in his dreams and, kissing the top of Craig's head, he knew that he was only at the start of a very long journey to get back the Craig he knew. But it was a journey he was prepared to take. And it was a journey he was never going to walk away from again.

Craig Dean returned to England a different man.

He had suffered more than he had ever thought possible and he had nearly lost himself completely. But two surprising men had been there when he needed them, had been there to bring him back from the edge of self-destruction.

Craig hadn't told anyone he was coming home and he was never going to be able to tell anyone why. There were some things a mother should never know about her youngest child. There were some things Craig hoped never to have to talk about again.

But one person knew that he was on his way back and that one person was waiting at the airport.

When Craig spotted him he let go of the comforting hold of John Paul's hand, the first time he had let go of it since leaving his flat a few hours earlier. He almost ran to the dark haired man waiting for him and flung his arms around him.

"Spike!" Craig held the startled man tightly as Spike returned his embrace. "Thank you." Craig felt that simple words would never be enough to express his gratitude for what Spike had done but, as they pulled apart and their dark eyes met an understanding passed between them that spoke more than words ever could. There was a bond between them that no one else would ever be able to comprehend.

When Craig Dean left England he felt completely alone.

When he returned he had the love of a wonderful man and a surprising friendship that he would treasure for the rest of his life.

Three months after returning to Hollyoaks Craig was sitting in the armchair in the small flat he shared with John Paul. He was casually flicking through the pages of a newspaper when a picture caught his eye.

As he stared at the face etched in newspaper ink he felt a familiar sickness and fear rising in his chest. He knew those dark eyes, that menacing stare and he knew the violence behind them.

Tearing his gaze from the pictures eyes he tried to read the story that accompanied it. The words spun around in his brain confusing him. Several words leapt out at him from the page. "Violent", "Sadistic," "Murdered."

Taking a deep steadying breath Craig went back to the start of the story and read it again. This time he started to understand what he was reading. The words formed into simple sentences in his head.

Peter Williams had been found murdered in a Dublin alleyway. A single bullet to the back of his head had killed him outright. Known as "Pete the psycho" he had been a well-known sexual predator whose violent, sadistic tendencies had finally been his downfall. Several hours after his death a younger man had walked into the local police station and confessed to the murder.

Jonathan Edwards had recently suffered at the hands of Pete and he had decided that no one else would ever suffer that again. He had gone in search of a gun and returned to club X to exact his revenge.

Craig's eyes fell to the bottom of the page where a small picture of the killer was located.

He didn't even notice the tears that fell from his eyes at the sight of the blonde haired blue-eyed boy looking back at him. He had changed since Craig first met him; there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn't been there that first time Craig had led him into the toilets.

Craig was sobbing heavily and holding the crumpled paper in his hands when John Paul returned home.

Without question John Paul pulled Craig against him and held the weeping man for an hour. When Craig's tears finally subsided John Paul prised the newspaper from his fingers and read the article that Craig pointed to.

"That was him?" John Paul asked simply.

Craig nodded.

"And the other man?"

"He was my fault," Craig voice was filled with the pain of his time spent in Dublin.

John Paul stroked Craig's face. "How can he be your fault?"

"I knew him… in X… I was…" Craig eyes were heavy with shame, "I was the first one who… I showed him what X was about… nobody came to save him…"

"You're not to blame Craig," John Paul assured him, "Some people can't be saved."

Craig accepted John Paul's comfort. He accepted John Paul's love and he accepted the arms that would hold him for the rest of his life.

Craig also accepted that some guilt he would carry with him forever.


End file.
